


From the Eyes of a Pacifist

by peachandbetty



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, Fights, Homoeroticism, Masturbation, Violence, Voyeurism, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachandbetty/pseuds/peachandbetty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching them fight, Relena sometimes felt she was a terrible pacifist. Rated explicit for bare torsos and other shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**AN. Having just come back to the GW fandom after many many years, I am painfully aware of the lack of active authors. This makes me sad. And so, I offer my feeble attempts for anybody still out there that would care to read them. Please, be warned, however. This story has been proof read but only by myself. I may update with an edited version later if I spot anything amiss.**

**I would love reviews if only to find out if anybody is still out there.**

**Disclaimer: I didn't own it a decade ago. Despite being an adult with a job and everything now, I still don't own it. Sad panda.**

# From the Eyes of a Pacifist

Relena sometimes felt she was a terrible pacifist.

He had told her he would be training with Trowa late that afternoon. It wasn't often they saw each other. Trowa, for the most part, lived and worked in the colonies bar the occasional trip when needed whereas Heero was solely based in Brussels with her. Where she went, he went. And so, as each occasion went, they'd grabbed a coffee, caught up, and here they were providing each other with the challenge their every day often lacked.

She didn't know what made her come today. Usually, she would leave them to their devices, knowing Heero would be around her office later in the evening to take her home, giving her some time to catch up on what always needed catching up on.

But then, the writhing form of curiosity had settled into her mind, to the point where her fingers would hover above her keyboard and her eyes were pointlessly scanning the same sentence over and over again. And so, she had grabbed her bag, made her way across the street to the Preventers HQ and down the three flights of stairs to the training centre.

It was well fitted, with a large hall for group exercises and several smaller rooms for private use and specialised equipment. She had only been down here twice, both times to accompany Heero as he collected his belongings from his locker, but she found them easily enough. They were the only ones down here this late after hours.

Peeking a head through the window on the door she expected to find two men engaged in intense had to hand combat. A shot of something electrifying went through her heart and burrowed in her core when she found so much more.

Two men, tall, dark and dangerous prowled around each other on the matted floor. There was a sheen of sweat adorning both bare torsos, toned muscles moving under smooth skin, coiled and ready to spring. Heat pooled in her abdomen and her head felt light. _This cannot be real..._

It was by far not her first time seeing Heero Yuy bare on top, or bare anywhere else for that matter. It was always a welcome sight, but it not that alone that was causing her stomach to flutter wildly.

She watched them, those stormy blue eyes she had learned to love so and the stark bright green of the other man's connected displaying their hardness, their strength and merciless intent. They would not notice her, she knew. They were all the other saw at that moment.

Her heart beat hard in her chest.

And then they launched, as if weightless, arms and legs moving so gracefully in what she could only call a dance, with both partners leading and none submitting not even for a second. Trowa had Heero on the ground, his feet taken from under him, before fighting his own balance as Heero's hands braced on the ground and his legs kicked upwards, his green-eyed partner narrowly dodging a powerful blow to the head.

Relena didn't try to keep up. She just let herself take it in, trying to even her breathing as something throbbed darkly and deliciously between her thighs.

She saw mist forming on the window from her breath, and she found herself holding it altogether, for fear of disrupting her view. Heero had both of his hands behind him as Trowa attempted to pin him down, a task almost successful until Heero's hands clamped around the wrist holding him and pushed forward, taking the other man over his head and onto the floor before him, not missing a second before swinging a powerful leg over to smack the mat where his opponent had rolled away.

These men, men who she knew were friends, were going for each other with lethal intent. Neither pulled their punches. If Heero's kick had landed, Trowa would have had several cracked ribs. If Trowa's lock had pressed even a millimeter further, Heero's arm would have broken. It should have petrified her.

Yet here she was, liquid fire coursing through her, chewing her lip in a desperate attempt to control the whimpers that made their way to her throat, watching the man she loved and a close friend and ally try to tear each other apart.

She leaned against the wall, away from the view of the window, closing her eyes and letting the images forever burned into her mind dance behind her lids. She needed to relieve this pressure. It was so intense, when her thighs squeezed together in the attempt she gasped from the sinful shock of pleasure that washed over her. She tried it again, and again before it was no longer enough.

She breathed heavily as her hand slid downward, slipping under the waistband of her dress trousers, breath hitching as the pad of her middle finger slid over an over-sensitised bundle of nerves, slick with her desire.

And that's when the door swung open. She immediately pulled away her hand and placed it behind her back, glistening evidence hidden from the gazes of the two men who had just vacated.

Heero was the first to notice her, giving her a puzzled look as he closed the cap on his water bottle.

"I thought you'd be working. Did I make you wait too long?"

Relena felt an instant pang of guilt. This was Heero to a tee, always looking out for her while she was the one spying on his personal time. Like a hormone-controlled teenager, she chided, more than a little annoyed with herself, but her lust still humming inside her.

"No...not at all. I...just finished." _Or not, as the case may be,_ , all too aware of her still heated state.

Trowa had just pulled his shirt on, before coming over to join them. _Oh, hell._

"Good evening, Relena. Sorry to keep him from you. Are you well?"

An odd question to ask, Relena thought. Why would he assume she wasn't well?

"I'm fine, Trowa. Why do you ask?"

Heero replied for him, lowering his shirt and bottle to the floor, his large hand coming up to push under her bangs and cover her forehead. The touch was electrifying.

"You're very warm, and your face is flushed. Have you been drinking properly?"

Another stab of guilt, and the more she tried to keep it off of her face the more she was convinced it was showing. They knew something was wrong, to be sure, but it would be her complete inability to hide anything from her bodyguard turned lover that would reveal the cause. She didn't think she could handle the embarrassment.

She gulped. "Yes. That must be it. I'm feeling fine, please don't worry on my account."

Heero gave her a small smile before removing his hand, bending over to pick up his water bottle from the floor before her. And this is where he orders me to drink before leaving this building. The man was sometimes overprotective to a fault. It made her smile.

As he picked up the bottle she saw his bare back stiffen suddenly, so fast she had barely seen it, before coming straight again, his eyes locking on to hers in a gaze she knew well. Those eyes told her that he knew something. _Impossible! How?_

He turned to Trowa, who was taking a long drink of his own with some visible stiffness in the hand holding his bottle. "Trowa, I'll see you in a month." The other man simply smiled and held up his hand in farewell, disappearing into the men's locker rooms.

He was barely through the door when Heero rested his arm above her head and leaned his face towards hers, effectively caging her in. Those eyes were back, those eyes that promised sin. Relena felt so very vulnerable, so much like a prey. Her knees nearly buckled.

She felt his breath on her, heating her already sensitised skin, devouring her with his eyes.

And then her knees did buckle, as a rough hand cupped her through the light material of her suit pants, palm pressing firmly against aching flesh. She whimpered in a breathless cry, eyes slamming shut.

The hand above her head smoothed her hair and down her neck, as it lifted her chin up to align his eyes with hers yet again. Her breathing was coming out in shattered gasps now, a long digit settling on her cotton-covered slit and rubbing gently, tightening a coil inside her that she felt might unspring at any second. It would take so little.

"H...how did you..." _How did he know?_

And then he smirked, that heart-breaking, dangerous smirk that promised things only reserved for her.

And he brought up the other hand from its place between her thighs, fingers parting to reveal a glistening trail that told it all. She had worked herself up so much, she had soaked right through her suit. She could have died from embarrassment if it wasn't so terribly erotic.

His voice rumbled low and deep in her ear. "So you like to watch me fight?"

That, however, was definitely a reason to be embarrassed.

"I...it's not..." She couldn't think of any legitimate excuse. And from the way he was looking at her, smugness firmly settled on his handsome face, he knew it too.

As his knee wedged between her thighs, his hands roaming underneath her blouse and lips and teeth suckling at her neck she only had one last coherent thought.

_I really am a terrible pacifist._


	2. From the Eyes of a Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And from the other POV...

It wasn’t news to Heero that he didn’t function the way normal people did. Fucked up, was the word Duo had used to describe his own deviation from regular human functionality but it had struck a similar chord in all of them. He guessed that it was why they were good company for each other, despite their different and sometimes clashing personalities. 

Still, he didn’t consider his deviance as a bad thing. If it wasn’t for his enhanced abilities and battle-ready way of thinking, the world would be a very different place entirely. However, it had some interesting and problematic side-effects.

At first, he’d assumed his response was normal. After all, anything the body does of its own accord is a reflex out of his control and could only be attributed to his body’s default commands, the same in every human being. The kind that tells you to breathe when your lungs are deflated and to blink when your eyes are dry. 

It was easily taken care of, a mere matter of an extra five minutes in the shower and some manual stimulation, so gave him no bother. It was a perfunctory physical response to the increased presence of adrenaline in his blood that made it pump faster and made his survival instinct sharper. 

But then, years down the line into his adulthood, he’d been given options. He quickly realised that another human hand on his skin, especially there, felt better than his own and definitely felt different. It elicited a far superior response and naturally, when given the option, he would chose her every time. 

So, in the infancy of their sexual exploration, something he had forced himself to reign in once he realised their mental pace didn’t entirely synchronise, they were all hands and he was fine with that. The arousal he experienced as the baffling result of the simple proximity of Relena Darlian to himself came easily, like a slow burn that needed to blaze before it would be extinguished. 

He let her reach a small, delicate hand beneath the waistband of his jeans to stoke him with her palm and he enjoyed the way this most proper of women bit her lip and watched exhilarated as his body reacted to her. He let her explore, have her way, because a possessive part of him wanted all of her, and it would be hypocritical to not give the same back.

He coaxed her to open up, to listen to her body and be true to its needs, eliciting gasps and soft sighs and harsh cries from her with hands and teeth and tongue in a way that awakened something fierce in him he could barely supress. Eventually, he didn’t need to and when she gave herself to him, she tried to hide from him. He wouldn’t have it, and he locked his eyes with hers to witness every second of his completely possession of her dance across her face. It was glorious, and a wave of masculine pride filled him as her back arched and body shook and she gripped him so very tight as she hit the heights of pleasure for his eyes alone. 

But then, the bar was raised, and his options had become so very broad. 

The arousal he experienced from fighting was a very different animal. It came without warning and he often didn’t realise it until his blood began to cool, a lingering side-effect of a potent drug. It wasn’t pleasure as he knew it in the arms of his lover, but it was pleasure nonetheless. It was fast, hard and merciless, an echo of his fighting in every way. It came to him in the blistering aftermath of his missions, during the harsh training he put himself through with the other pilots to keep themselves well honed, and even during the fitful memories of war.

At first, he refused to let her touch him when he was like this. It would be wrong to use her as a tool for his release when there was blood and war and broken flesh in his mind where it should be consumed with her. He would go about his business, cold and clinical, under a stream of water as though to wash away something deeply unclean. In the locker room at headquarters, after a long work out with one of the others trying to break him as hard as he tried to break them, he let his head tilt back against the tiled wall and his hands work over his own flesh. 

But then, she’d surprised him. Not a year prior, she had been as shy and as virginal as one could expect from a woman of good stock and high society. She was a spitfire, full of energy and gave no quarter when it came to the passion of her work, the belief in a better world. She wore her heart on her sleeve. But something in her was caged when it came to all matters of the erotic, and he knew that if he wanted to be with her in that capacity, he would have to accept that there would always be something there, like gravity pulling her back to earth. 

One day, she was there, waiting for him in a place she ought not be at all with eyes blazing with something very familiar but very out of place considering the circumstances. It wasn’t until he’d bent over to pick up his water bottle, wanting to make sure she was properly hydrated considering her flushed appearance, that he realised the cause in the form of an unmistakeable dampness on the white material at the apex of her thighs, a scent that served to make his already hardened cock twitch to be buried there.

He flicked a glance towards his sparring partner of the day. “I’ll see you in a month,” he bid, and Trowa’s eyes glittered with amusement before graciously leaving for the showers. Trowa didn’t miss much but Heero couldn’t bring himself to care.

He instead focused on the petite woman practically writhing in front of him, her thighs involuntarily rubbing to relieve the pressure of her arousal. He prowled forward and trapped her in against the wall, making sure to capture her ever-telling gaze before grinding the heel of his hand against her. Her eyes glazed over as a pretty whimper escaped her throat and his cock reacted harshly. This was dangerous. He wasn’t in the correct state to do this, not with her. 

His finger moved over her slit and he watched her breath come in heavy pants. She was close. He could fill her right now and she’d come apart so easily. 

“How...how did you…” Her voice was ragged and his lips curled into a smirk. After so long, she should know that he could play her body like a fine instrument, and that only came with learning the tune. Feeling playful, he drew his hand away from his teasing and displayed them to her gaze, parting his fingers to show the evidence of her desire glistening between them. 

He was pushing the boundary of her propriety, and a presence at the back of his mind warned him that he could end up pushing too far. But he wanted this. He wanted to see that gravity dissipate and take her soaring along the lines of sin with him. His muscles still throbbed where he had stressed their limits. Trowa was an excellent partner, with every bit of the ruthlessness he expected of himself, and it had left him with a singeing through his entire body. He idly wondered if she would enjoy it like he did.

“So, you like to watch me fight?” He intoned, leaning into her ear like he was imparting a deep secret. She had often told him that she hated the fact that he had to fight. It made her deeply upset and he’d taken great measures to ensure that that part of his life collided with hers as little as possible. But here she was, as desperate for release as he was.

“I…it’s not…” She argued lamely but they both knew it was futile. She’d been caught in the act and Heero felt like if he didn’t latch on to this now, he’d miss it. He’d miss the chance to share himself with her in a way he could never before.

He trailed his hands over her hips and up under her blouse, pulling it from the waist band and pressing his thigh between the aching juncture of her legs. Her eyes fluttered shut and head lulled to the side as he’d expected and he immediately took the chance to assault the exposed flesh there. 

From the start of their blossoming relationship, he’d discovered how very sensitive she was. At first it was just the obvious places, her lips, her neck and the spot behind her ears but the more he’d been given to explore, the more he realised that her entire body thrummed with even the tiniest touch. But here, as his teeth grazed over her jugular before sucking harshly, was one of few places that made her surrender to him entirely. Right now, that notion was far too appealing. 

“Heero…” she sighed uselessly, and he knew he had her, that he could do what he wanted to her in this moment and she wouldn’t fight him. He didn’t want to fight right now; he wanted to pound himself into soft, yielding flesh to the rhythm of his blood. And from the way she ground herself on his thigh in a desperate bid for more, he guessed she would be more than willing to let him. 

He wasn’t gentle, and he didn’t take his time to make her comfortable. She seemed boneless as her turned her around to face the wall, only taking care to make sure she was able to stand by herself as she rested her forearms there and the side of her face against them. Her visible eye caught his as he curled his fingers over her waistband and with a quick ripped the fasteners open and let cloth slide down her slender, creamy legs. 

Seeing her so exposed wasn’t a gift he’d been granted often. She was stuck with a taint that made her neglect to see the beauty in her own flesh and he acquiesced to her preferences in that regard. But right then, he couldn’t have cared, and took her lack of attempt to shy away from him as permission to stare as he pleased.   
He smoothed one hand over firm, round buttocks and he growled low in his throat. She was so very beautiful, and as he pushed up the milky flesh of her back, she arched forward and exposed a part of her he knew was overheated and painful. She was a sight, the skin there flushing the same colour of her face and he pulled apart the swollen puff of her lips to the cool air with his thumb. 

“Wha-!” She gasped, before a perceptible shiver claimed her body. Oh, he thought, she would not last long.

The soft band of his own joggers were riding low on his hips and he pushed at them just enough to free his unyielding hardness from its confines. He hissed at the feeling of the air on him and leaned in to the needy creature before him, hands running from her rib cage to her hips.

“Do not move,” he commanded her, low in her ear before gripping the flesh of her rear and pushing himself into her to the hilt in one hard thrust. Heero growled at the feeling of soft, pliable flesh surrounding him, hot and so very tight. He could feel the throbbing at the base of his length to the thump of his blood and he dragged his blunt fingernails over her flesh from the feeling. Before him, Relena gripped for purchase on the wall, face buried in her forearms as her shoulders rose and fell with her laboured breath and long broken gasps. Her body was shaking slightly and Heero’s excitement rose; right now, she was incurably aroused. He could ruin her to his heart’s content.

With one hand on her shoulder and one hand on her hip, he kept her in place as he pulled himself back. The wet noise would usually have embarrassed her but she kept still, her face contorted in pleasure. He slammed back in harder than he’d usually permit himself and her sudden cry did nothing more than urge him into another, and soon his hip snapped back and forth, flesh slapping hard against wet flesh as delicious feminine cries echoes through the Preventer’s training centre. Her body was writhing and her limbs tried to go taut as her fingernails dragged down the length of the bricked wall and in barely a minute Heero felt the incredible sensation of her walls clamping down on him, again and again, as her orgasm hit. Her scream was muffled by her arm but Heero heard the syllabic vowels of his name and he couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips. 

He was so very far from done.

Barely waiting for her to catch a breath, he flipped her around and pushed her legs up around his waist. She looked like she barley had the strength to stand and he wanted complete control. With only her back against the wall to support her, he picked up his rhythm again. She was small and light, and he brought her hips against his so easily. It made him feel powerful but nothing filled him with more pride and drive than the enraptured look on her face. She was helpless, mouth parted and swollen from where she had been biting her lip and a few wet trails down her face where her eyes had watered from the intensity of her first orgasm. 

She took each jarring thrust perfectly, yielding for him and her pert little breasts jumped jaggedly with his relentless rhythm beneath her satin blouse. Her sighs were long and formless, broken by a seemingly endless assault on her body and Heero felt the tingling burn of his release forming in the pit of his stomach. This was perfect. This was fucking and fighting and her all at once and his body sang with it, a war drum beating in his head to the time of his thrusts. 

He tilted his hips, adjusting the angle and pulling her hips down against him in a way that ground the swollen nub of her sex against his toned lower stomach and the reaction was instantaneous. Sharp nails dug into his shoulder with a pleasurable sting and strained, broken cries came one after the other as he hammered up into her, dragging out her climax to reach his own. She became unbearably tight, and he became suddenly aware of sweet, clear liquid leaking down his thighs. 

He barely had enough time to full comprehend what had happened before his spine snapped taut, a raging fire exploding from his stomach and spreading through every nerve in his body, blood thrumming in his ears. His fingers dug into the flesh of slender thighs still wrapped around him as his length spasmed inside her, letting out a long, drawn out growl that sounded more animal that man and he had no choice but to fall to his knees, his strength failing him. 

He knelt there, cradling her body in his arms as she clung lifelessly to him. As his heart slowed and the beat of his body faded he pressed lazy kisses to her neck, her shoulder, anywhere within reach, breathing her in. He wondered if the world had ever been so silent, and the stark contrast between now and just a few minutes ago was haunting.

His kisses stopped when the implications of his actions hit him all at once.

He had crossed a line, the line that separated her from _him._

Panic seized him instantly, and he pulled back from her embrace to look at her properly.

“Relena,” he croaked, voice hoarse from his exertion, “are you alright?”

She looked up at him with some considerable effort and gave him a weak smile, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion and simply nodded before leaning forward to bury her face in his shoulder once again. Heero allowed himself to relax a little. She was tired, and she would probably be sore later but he hadn’t hurt her. In fact…  
His eyes flickered to the stray droplets of moisture that dotted the tiled floor and recalled the very novel reaction her body had made during her release. Heero liked to consider himself well researched on the subject of sex, practically burying himself in books and articles when he realised that he would have to take it upon himself to be the educator in their relationship, but this was unique. Whatever it was, it had left her snoozing gently against him with a careless smile on her face and his own soon found him. 

He loved this woman, and it was as though something had locked into place, reconciling the last, deepest, darkest part of him with the part of his life that outshone all others. He suddenly felt very foolish that it could be any other way.

Placing a chaste kiss into her hair he pushed them up, linking an arms underneath her to carry her through to the locker rooms. 

He would need to find her new pants.


End file.
